


The Sword and the Shield (Chuck Hansen x OC/Reader)

by lithharbor



Category: Pacific Rim (Movies)
Genre: F/M, Father-Son Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-19
Updated: 2018-06-19
Packaged: 2019-05-25 13:02:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 16
Words: 10,309
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14977700
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lithharbor/pseuds/lithharbor
Summary: A tribute to the heart of Chuck Hansen, who deserved the world that he died to save.A tie-in to the canon film, novelization, and other facts given by Rob Kazinsky.Creator of Striker Eureka, Celia Shaw (OC/Reader) is obligated to work with her new, brilliant pilot, born to pilot her Mark V. But the egotistical jerk with daddy issues is not who she had in mind.





	1. Dick

**Author's Note:**

> OC/Reader:  
> Name: Celia Shaw  
> Born: March 22, 2003, Sydney, Australia  
> Family: None, orphaned young, parents never seeing the Kaiju War.  
> Occupation: Jaeger tech, creator of the world’s only Mark V Jaeger, Striker Eureka

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Celia meets her new pilot.

              “My son, Chuck, my new co-pilot.” Hercules Hansen gestures to the cocky young man already ordering around several crew members. Herc had long told Celia he would be coming. An absolute prodigy, top of his class, born to pilot her Jaeger. Celia stares at his back; his hands on his swaggering hips, admiring Striker Eureka as if it was already his. An absolute dick.

              Herc and Celia make their way to the briefing room, Chuck eventually strolling in, the clink of his metal boots announcing his arrival. The Marshal is already there, and gestures Celia to stand by him and the displays. Chuck takes his seat and drops his heavy feet up on the table. Herc throws a swift back hand at Chuck’s chest: _Legs. Down._ Chuck rolls his eyes, plops his feet back down and leans forward.

              “Alrighty, so who’s gonna tell me about my Jaeger?” Chuck announces in his Australian drawl. His smile offends Celia’s very core. The Marshal, with his murderous eyes almost begins a sharp reprimand of the fresh new pilot, but Celia takes the lead.

              “It’s my Jaeger, Hansen. You’re welcome to sit in it, but you keep up your shtick and I’ll drop ya faster than your pathetic tongue. I don’t care if Herc is your father. I don’t care how good you are. Striker Eureka speaks for herself.”

              “Oh? So, you’re the brains of the Mark V. I must say, I’m a great admirer,” Chuck replies sardonically. “You forgettin’ though that a Jaeger is only as good as its pilots? Striker’ll be nothin’ without me. Def’nitely not with _this_ old man,” his head gestures over to his father. All the death glares in the world wouldn’t be able to penetrate Chuck’s superiority complex. He knows he is the best pilot ever to emerge from the PPDC, even without having driven a real Jaeger, which fuels his complete lack of respect to rank, age, experience, anyone. “You wanna risk humanity and dig up some half-wit loser instead? Try it sweetie, see where that gets us.”

              Dickish as he was, Celia knew he was right. There was no avoiding him getting into that Jaeger and having to listen to his shit. She built the greatest Jaeger in the world. Now she’s getting the greatest pilot in the world. Celia darts her eyes at Herc. _I told you, and I’m sorry,_ his eyes reply back.

              Following the Jaeger briefing, an entire meeting suffering Chuck’s arrogant smirk, Celia grudgingly sends Chuck and his father back to Striker, where they will suit up and initiate a test of their drift and maneuverability. She climbs upstairs to the Loccent to monitor her Jaeger and her new pilot. She can hear Chuck’s excitement over her comms, “This is more like it.” She stifles any audible protests.

              The neural handshake is initiated, and it holds steady. At the very least she wasn’t Herc, she thought, who had to be stuck in Chuck’s head from now on, and she couldn’t fathom what that was like. It was probable that Chuck could only drift with his father, no one else would be able to suffer him. Everything seems to place Chuck Hansen in her Jaeger, and she hated it.

              They test out Striker exceptionally well. She is now the greatest Kaiju contender on Earth, but it wasn’t exactly how Celia envisioned it.


	2. Sheila

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Celia stumbles upon a figure in the training bay.

              Looking at a holographic display on her tablet, Celia walked down the hallway without looking where she was going. She glances up eventually, forgetting where she was going in the first place, and also not sure why she was in the Ranger training bay.

              Mostly filled with cadets, the area was bustling with grunts and flashes of flesh and flying sweat. Celia can’t help but take a glance at one shirtless man ferociously tearing at a punching bag, repelling anyone who came too close. His back turned on her, she stares at his broad shoulders, glistening and twisting; his punches are quick and steady. He hops back and shadow boxes the air before throwing a kick at the bag and spinning around. Though heavily panting, he smiles upon seeing Celia; it’s fuckin’ Chuck. Celia, mortified to find that it was him, instinctively recoils, but keeps her feet in place; she’d be more mad at herself if she ran away. 

              “Enjoying the show, darlin’?” he laughs, unwrapping the bands from his fists. She hates everything that’s happening right now. Everywhere she goes, she always seems to be bombarded by this loathsome smirk. And by the look on her face, Chuck knows she didn’t mean to be there and be caught admiring him.

              “Don’t call me that,” she hisses. He thuds his wiry body over with naturally heavy steps. She fixates her defiant glare up at his intrigued gaze, refusing to stray over the front of his brawny body, which she knew and hated to admit, was equally captivating.

              Chuck steps uncomfortably close to tease her, his face looming over hers. She stands her ground, cranking her face up to challenge his.

              “Aw, don’t be shy, Sheila,” he smirks, “Help yourself,” he motions down at himself. Celia suppresses another wince at his misguided attempt at charm. She also takes a moment to curse whoever gave her a name so close to Sheila. She shoves him back, though not by very much; he was too big to move.

              “Kiss my ass, Hansen!” she says, finally storming off.

              Chuck shouts after her, “Gladly!” Hearing another remote groan, he laughs. He thinks the interaction went well.


	3. Exceptional

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chuck successfully bothers Celia during her work, and Celia spends time with her family.

              Striker Eureka proves to be everything she is made to be, and Chuck is clearly one of the reasons. He was born for that Jaeger. He has studied every part of that Jaeger. When off-duty, he sticks around the Loccent while Celia works to admire his Jaeger even more. Celia learns to accept him as a pilot but is frustrated that his arrogance in and out of the Jaeger seems to be the only flaw.

              “Striker’s so gorgeous, the way she moves ya know, her speed is absolutely incredible. I mean ya look at logs of Mark III’s and II’s and they’re just so clunky and slow it makes me wanna smash ‘em… At least the Kaiju saw to that,” Chuck rambles on in the Loccent to no one in particular, though Celia and his bulldog Max were the only ones in the room.

              “I KNOW. I made her that way,” Celia groans, as she has every day. For whatever reason, Max always tagging along with Chuck lets her tolerate his daily visits. She pats Max’s squishy head like a stress ball, who was panting in the chair beside her.

              “It’s just a real shame that you don’t admire her _exceptional_ pilot as much as I do with her,” he sneers, “Absolutely phenomenal, the best there ever was, sheer perfection. Equally nice to look at too.” He smirks, stroking his chin with his thumb. She twists her head to look at him with fiery eyes.

              “I’ve never said you were a bad pilot, Hansen,” she snaps, “but comparing Striker to your sack of shit has never occurred to me.”

Chuck’s eyes target hers, daring her to resist him. He swiftly gets up and looms over her, pushing on the back of her chair. “Yer so fiery ‘ol the time but you and I both know,” he says in a low, quiet voice, hovering his face over hers, “You think I’m hot shit.”

              “Emphasis on the shit,” she spits back, glaring. She’s never been one to stay in denial; everything he says has always been right, even if she hates it.

              “Heh,” he grins. He runs his eyes all around her as he did with Striker, claiming what he believes to be his. “Maybe I’ll just have to take you for a ride, too.”

              Celia shoves him off in disgust, “Oh fuckin’ grow up, Chuck.” She spins back to her control panel, abhorring the fact that he made her feel a little aroused when he leaned in.

              Chuck huffs out a chuckle and starts stepping out of the Loccent. Turning towards the door, he runs into his father in the doorway, who was coming in. His grin falls immediately into a grimace, the father and son never liked to be in contact outside the Jaeger.

              “Out of the way, dad,” he drones impatiently.

              Herc looks disapprovingly at his face and then over at Celia at the controls. “Wouldja quit antagonizin’ Celia fer god’s sake,” he sighs, knowing his reprimands always fall on deaf ears.

              “Oh, she _loves_ me, just won’t admit it,” he says behind him loudly. Celia snaps her head back briefly just to bare her teeth at him; he laughs. “Ey Max, c’mon, what’re ya doin’!” he calls behind him. But Max only barks once and remains in his chair beside Celia. “Fine,” he gives up, and pushes his dad aside to leave.

              Herc takes the seat behind Celia; Max plops out of his chair for a second to greet him.

              “Takin’ care of Miss Shaw, bud?”

              He smiles, and drools on his hand.

              “Lovely.”

              Herc wipes it on his pant leg. Celia is quiet in her seat, looking through her displays, occasionally tapping out calculations.

              “Hey Celia,” Herc starts hesitantly, “Ya know, sorry about him again.”

              Celia sighs, “I know Herc, it’s fine.”

              Herc slumps into his chair, “Never got the hang of being a good father. Still furious at me for his mother, too.” Chuck and his father barely spoke, but Herc has been in the drift with him three times now.

              “He’d never say it, but he quite admires you, Celia.” Admiration wasn’t quite it; Herc had unavoidably felt what Chuck felt about her, curiosity, longing, attraction, pride. He knew it wasn’t the pathetic, shallow act that he fronted for her. But it was an embarrassing, strange feeling to experience; Herc having watched Celia grow up in the Shatterdome. And Chuck knew that his father now knows many of his thoughts and feelings, and has thus unfortunately been acting ever more aggressively around him since their first drift.

              Celia scoffed. “Why is it though he doesn’t understand the concept of respect?” Celia asked rhetorically. “He’s got the biggest ego I’ve ever seen, his head’s ‘bout the size of a Jaeger’s actually.” She swerves her chair again to face him. “And he just strolls on in every day with Max and his stupid grin, tellin’ me about my own tech, goin' on n' on ‘bout his kills, and Max _literally_ looking up to him..."

              Celia stops; she notices her cheeks are feeling warm and she’s getting herself riled up. She clenches her fists and then covers her own face in frustration, groaning. “Just… WHATEVER! Okay? It’s whatever!” she says. “He’s my greeeaat super talented pilot! Love him so much!” she exclaims sarcastically.

              Max plops himself into her lap, his happy face panting at hers. Celia groans, buries her face into his shoulder and squeezes him tight.

              “Wish you could pilot Striker instead, Max,” she says into his fur.

              Herc chuckles behind her. “You and me both, Celia.”

              She swerves herself and Max back towards him, smiling. “But imagine the drift with him! Just happy feelings and ball-chasing and belly rubs!”

              Herc laughs hard. “He’ll probably think the Kaiju is another dog to play with.”

              Celia cries in laughter, hugging Max even tighter. This was her family right here. She didn’t need anything else.


	4. Respect

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chuck unwittingly finds the key.

              In the Jaeger deployment bay, Celia is overseeing maintenance operations a few hours after the latest Striker deployment. A disgruntled mechanic is yelling and causing a scene, losing his cool after 15 hours of continuous labor.

              “No one cares if re-anchoring is slow or not, the Jaeger already finished the job! Yer just bein’ pointless and overworkin’ me like always!” he spats at her.

              Celia isn’t looking at him, eyes glued to her tablet as always. “And when we’re behind schedule when the next Kaiju hits, you gon’ be the one to explain to the Marshal why Striker isn’t ready?” she replies, indifferent.

              “You’re fuckin’ bullshit, Shaw! I’ve had it!” he screams. He slams his hand drill on the ground hard, ricocheting in Celia’s direction but missing her. Celia is startled, but not by the drill, by the appearance of Chuck flying in behind her and grabbing the mechanic by the arm.

              “You lay a hand on her and I’ll personally have our Jaeger shove you in the next Kaiju’s mouth ya fucker! _You_ are worthless trash compared to her! Yer lucky she even lets you lay a hand on her Jaeger; you are its ass-wiper and nothing more!”

              The mechanic is horrified, as if he were in a lion’s jaws.

              “Say it!” Chuck roars.

              “I am its ass-wiper and nothing more!” the mechanic trembles. Chuck shoves him off, and the mechanic scurries away.

              “Cunt,” Chuck grimaces. He leans over and picks up the drill. He turns to Celia, both of them looking flush with embarrassment. He stares for a moment, then stomps in Striker’s direction to finish what the mechanic gave up on. The heat inside him keeps burning under his skin, he lets out a frustrated grunt as he leaves.


	5. Honeysuckle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chuck and Celia become amicable.

              Chuck and Celia won’t say it, Celia out of consideration of his inability to verbally express emotions, but their relationship began to shift forward immensely since, even going as far as ignoring any previous conflicts. Chuck Hansen had given his first undeniable admission of respect for Celia, unaware that that was the simple key to unlocking her resistance towards him.

              Chuck continued his visits to the Loccent, talking less than usual, having edited out the dumber remarks his brain comes up with, or veering them towards someone else. But when the Loccent was occupied by a different Jaeger team, Chuck and Celia found themselves still looking for each other. Chuck would march throughout the Shatterdome searching for her and plop himself next to her. Celia would then look up from her dossiers without the typical cringe on her face and start chatting with him.

              One of these times, which would become a recurring habit of hers, Celia barged herself into Chuck’s dorm where he was resting on his bed, helped herself to his chair and began rambling about something. Startled, and briefly considering locking his door from now on, he brushed off the thought like a stray bug and turned his head towards her, agreeing enthusiastically about whatever she was going on about.

              “Seriously the biggest miscalculation on their part,” she says.

              “I fuckin’ know right? It’s a miracle they took that Kaiju down at all,” he replies.

              “I mean that time we shipped you to Mindanao didn’t go anything like that, ‘cuz we’re not that stupid.”

              “Nope.”

              “And it was literally the same thing.”

              “Obviously. Some of these Jaeger pilots just giving us a bad name.”

              “Fuckin’ right?”

              Perhaps his cockiness was rubbing off on her instead.

              They’d talk about their mutual love for Striker Eureka. She tells him she can’t take all the credit for Striker’s Kaiju-piercing K-Stunner missiles; it was reading Dr. Geiszler’s research that let her develop them in the first place. He raises an eyebrow hearing the maniacal scientist’s name, and tells her they’re brilliant because she made them.

              She could stay up all night detailing her creations, Chuck supporting his face up with an elbow, eating up every word and asking questions. On his part it was nothing new; it was Celia who used to feel pestered by the talkative Aussie. A stomach would grumble and they’d get up, still on about their conversation, head to the dining hall, stuff their mouths full of food, and return without missing a beat.

              Celia typically fell asleep mid-sentence resting her head on his mattress. “I’m just restin’ my eyes for a sec,” she’d say, and Chuck would groan, “That’s what you always say, and ya black out anyway.”

              When she doesn’t respond, Chuck sighs, rolls her body on his single bed, and grabs her room key instead. Closing the heavy door behind him, he kicks off his equally heavy boots, slumps himself into her bed, and stares into the darkness. The noisy thoughts that regularly provoke his heart take over, feeling like a swarm of bees in his chest. An air of honeysuckle wraps around him like a blanket; Celia’s scent embedded in her pillow. He lets it pacify him into sleep.


	6. Lift

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A moment together.

              “Were you scared when you faced Ceramander?” Celia asked one day. His first Kaiju kill. Chuck shrugs. “Not really,” he replies, “Between the Loccent, the Tunari bros in Coyote and my dad in my head, it was just noisy. Felt great to get it done.” Chuck is lying on his back, arms supporting his head as usual. He seems like a statue sometimes, he doesn’t seem to move at all, his eyes in a steady gaze somewhere above him. Celia on the other hand, was always unconsciously shaking her leg and cracking a knuckle.

              “So you’re never scared? Facing a Kaiju?”

              “Nah,” he says easily. “Feels right, like I belong there. Striker’s just an extension of my body, and the Kaiju is just a bad dog I’m meant to wrestle down.”

              “There’s no such thing as a bad dog, Chuck,” she corrects him.

              “You’re right. A big, fat-ass, Outback lizard then,” he grins. She cracks up thinking about it, a giant Chuck punching a big, regular old lizard. He turns his head over to blind her with his smile, innocent like a dog, and hoists himself up.

              “See it’s like this, right?” Chuck slides himself behind her and squeezes his arms around hers. “Say you’re the Kaiju,” “WHAT!” “and I’ve got you like this, and I just LIFT!” He hoists her up in the air, then slams her into his mattress like a football.

              “CHUCK!” Celia shrieks with laughter. He pounces over her, not letting up. He grabs her wrists, “But I still got your front limbs stuck like this right? Oh shit and then…” He pretends to punch Celia with her own hands, “I’ve always wanted to try this, have ‘em taste their own fists like that?”

              “Stoooooop!” He laughs and obeys, still holding her wrists above her.

              “See, isn’t that fun? Not scary at all.”

              “It is for the Kaiju!”

              “Damn right it is. Wouldn’t wanna face me again, wouldja?”

              “I sure as hell won’t, with your track record, I’m dead.”

              “You’re absolutely right.”


	7. Arrogance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A bad dog tests Striker.

              3 a.m. Celia is in the Loccent with her crew, Marshal Pentecost making a visit to their Shatterdome. Striker was abruptly called out to Auckland to face another Kaiju. It was another in a string of Kaiju appearances as of late; the Shatterdome has been exhausted and on edge, resetting the war clock practically every month. Despite the burnout, the Hansens jumped into Striker like the morning commute.

              “Steady look-out! Hound is close on your radar, 6 ‘o-clock! Do you copy?” Celia calls.

              “Yeah, yeah,” Chuck’s voice cuts through the comms. “Doooon’t you worry.” She can almost hear his grin a thousand miles away.

              “What are you doing, Striker? Don’t go for the miracle mile!” Celia shouts in the intercom, watching Striker Eureka’s position head towards land.

              “I just wanna lil scenic backdrop, that’s all,” Chuck says, “Plus it’s ‘bout time fer a challenge.” They maintain their course, still with their back on the deep sea. Celia is baffled.

              “Herc?!” She can’t understand why he’s letting him be so careless.

              “Get your ass back there, now!” the Marshal grabs the intercom. “That’s an order! HANSEN!”

              The Marshal tries to regain control of the loose Jaeger, fist firm on the comms. But Chuck is blinded by a lackadaisical, cocky attitude, fueled by an increasing number of Kaiju on Striker’s belt. Herc, on the other hand, had just finished an emotional, confrontational bout with Chuck the night before. Stuck in drift after drift in fiery, gut-wrenching storms, Herc's guilt needed some form of closure for relief but emerged feeling worse than ever. Overwhelmed and sleepless, Herc lets his son take over.

              Striker, under Chuck's control, finally quits its path, tired of being yelled at.

              “Alright already, the Kiwis can wait - “

              “Chuck!!”

              The Hound pounces onto Striker’s back in the blink of an eye. It claws the entire backside, slicing trenches into the metal with each talon and locking its jaws into its shoulder. It stays latched onto Striker’s spine and shoulder, the Hansens unable to pull away, loosening parts of armor with each jerk. Auckland’s harbor is clearly visible from their cockpit; they’ve drawn the Hound so close. They finally sacrifice a last chunk of armor and peel the Hound off, grabbing its skull and blasting its missiles directly in its face. The Hound screams and flails its talons at Striker’s chest in its last efforts. Its face is bloody with blue but it keeps holding on and scratching, spraying its toxicity onto Striker. Striker grabs its wrists and pushes it into the sea, beating it until its sickly color pervades the waters.

              Celia is too appalled to speak. The Kaiju’s marker disappears from the Loccent’s displays, and the Marshal orders the Jumphawks back to the scene to retrieve the Jaeger. It feels like an eternity while she waits. She knew long ago that Chuck’s arrogance would be their only flaw. She had forgotten it completely, or chose to ignore it, she isn’t sure. She doesn’t notice Max trying to rub against her leg. She doesn’t feel anything. She hears nothing but the shrieks of the Hound and crushed armor pulsing through her head.


	8. Wreck

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chuck realizes that he hurt someone.

              Striker Eureka is carefully lowered back into the Shatterdome. Her top-of-the-line armor is battered and wrecked, ocean water dripping down its fresh dents like rain. Despite its new disfigurement, the Jaeger is re-anchored securely with several mechanical snaps,and groans of machinery. Striker’s head shoots back into the dome and the pilots descend from the Conn-Pod; Chuck emerging first with Herc right behind, both with long, heavy faces but unharmed. The entire population of the Sydney Shatterdome begins slowly gathering around the deployment bay, but it is the distinct sound of stomping boots gradually drawing near that causes a grimace from both Hansens; the Marshal undoubtedly arriving to give the biggest lecture of their careers. But before he can reach them, Celia flies past him in a flash, sprinting. Chuck braces himself. It’s even worse: Celia’s going to tear him a new one for wrecking her machine.

              She tackles Chuck in a tight hug that causes him to stumble with his already fatigued body. Her forehead is dug into his drive-suit’s chest, but her voice reveals her tears.

              “You idiots!” she cries. It is muffled, but the Shatterdome rings her cry; the Marshal stops dead in his steps. Shock pervades through Chuck’s eyes, his arms still hanging over her. Herc, equally frozen in shock behind his son, looks to the Marshal, but his face reveals no orders or reprimands. In the silence of the dome, Chuck gently wraps his drivesuit-armored arms around Celia and stares into nothing; both he and Celia have fully erased any awareness of the people around them. Her face is tightly clenched in pain, breathing sharply.

              “I’m sorry”, he whispers, trembling. His voice is like that of a boy. It wavers increasingly as he understands the weight of what he had done. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I’m sorry.” His hand pulls her in tighter, one hand on the back of her head and his chin resting on top.

              Time seems to have stopped in the Shatterdome. No one dares to move as the two remain interlocked. But Celia works to gather herself as quickly as she can. She takes a last deep breath, loosens her arms and looks up at Chuck, finally revealing her reddened face. She sees the equally pained face of Chuck, who was stroking her face with his thumb. With one last look, Celia breaks from him, wipes her face roughly and turns to Herc, attitude completely shifted.

              “Frickin’ morons!” she points menacingly at him on her way towards the Jaeger, still red in the face, “What have you done to my BABY!” She widens her arms in disbelief at the spectacle before her, the pathetic aftermath of the previously immaculate Striker Eureka.

              “Get the hell in there, team!” she calls, breaking the time freeze of the Shatterdome and releasing the inhabitants to resume its busy shuffle. The Marshal however, still held himself back in his position, finally deciding to turn away and save his reprimands for later. Chuck faces his father, both nursing the heavy guilt they brought upon themselves. They forgive each other silently and instantly for the night before and the terrible performance, if for just one reason, for her. A bark breaks their silence, Max the bulldog has finally arrived from his slow, wobbly pursuit of Celia. Herc bends down to pet him.

              “Hey bud, your team’s been pretty shit.”


	9. Beloved

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chuck wanders the Shatterdome, lost in his head.

              The Shatterdome’s usual fast-paced lifestyle eats at the hours quickly. Celia and her team work tirelessly salvaging the wrecked Striker Eureka; usually directing orders from the ground, she had hoisted herself up on the platforms and was fiercely repairing her precious Jaeger herself while simultaneously shouting orders below her and over her comms. Chuck and Herc spend several hours in the control room, finally swallowing the Marshal’s reproaches and criticisms and having to review all of their mission’s fresh recordings and watching their mistakes over and over. Chuck barely registers any of it, the “Absolute lack of professionalism”s, the “completely moronic abuse of a Jaeger”s, and so forth. He doesn’t need to hear it, he already knows. He is too busy swallowing the pain from his actions. A powerful sting hits him each time he watches himself stroll through the ocean like nothing, with orders barking at them and ignoring them like seagulls. The actual fight would have been like nothing for them had they been focused; but his fool-hardy desire for a challenge cost him. And worst of all, he hurt Celia.

              The Hansens are released from their punishment, but they have nowhere to be; they are grounded until their Jaeger can be repaired. Herc walks off somewhere, Chuck finds himself back at the deployment bay but is turned back around, it is closed off to non-essential staff during heavy repair.

              He wanders the halls like a ghost. He can’t interrupt her during her work and he doesn’t want to be in his room without her. He passes the entire day pacing the compound, lost in the swarm of bees in his head and chest. He drags himself to the dining hall to swallow some food. When he finishes, he is startled to realize it is a full five hours since he started.

              His mind clears enough to decide to return to the deployment bay; surely he could enter by now. He slips his way in and still finds a fair amount of the crew shuffling around, but are too occupied to notice him. It is 3 a.m. again, 24 hours since he was deployed. He heads straight for Striker, he knows he would find Celia still somewhere around. Sure enough, he sees a recognizable leg and the end of a ponytail dangling off a platform. He calls her name to no response, so Chuck pulls on the corresponding cables to lower the platform, and brings to the ground an exhausted, fully asleep Celia sprawled on the metal. Several plastic wrappers with rice grain stragglers were shoved into a giant equipment box under her other leg. Wild, sticky hairs are painted to her temples with old sweat, and her hair tie is barely clinging on. Chuck pulls a grain of rice from the end of her ponytail, then slides his arms under her legs and back to gently lift her up. He turns and slowly paces towards the dorms, careful not to rock her too much.

              Celia gradually awakens along the way anyway, her barely open eyes and groggy consciousness minimally registering where she was. Chuck makes it to the door to her room; Celia sleepily pulls the key out of one of her pockets and holds it out for him. She wraps her arms around his neck as he effortlessly shifts her into one arm and opens the door. Finally, he enters, pushes the door closed with a foot and slides her into her bed.

              Celia’s half-open eyes turn to Chuck, who is now kneeling by her bed. His face is heavy with exhaustion, lack of sleep and still, guilt. Besides the fact that what he did was completely out of the line as a pilot, how could he have disregarded the potential costs? How could he have almost thrown away her only family and her life’s work all in one fell swoop? How did he not understand how undeniably important to her he was? Their lighthearted but steady affair was never a simple distraction from the world. It was loyal, an inextinguishable flame, an unconscious fusion of souls. They were in love. They were in the drift.

              Celia reaches a hand to touch his face, which was raw with torment; her sore arm pained to do so. Her unwavering gaze burned open the reality in his heart. Chuck leans over and presses his face to hers; he kisses her. He had never dared to before in fear of breaking the façade. It was longing, like a man desperate for water, and it was bursting, his vulnerability breaking free. He pulls away for a moment only to breath her in and returns more vigorously.

              When they are both fully out of air and heightened with unbearable passion they stop, breathing heavily and locking their gaze back into place. Celia pulls on his arm, tugging him into her tiny bed. Chuck slips himself in and wraps his thick arms around her, pressing his forehead to hers. She lightly presses her lips on the edge of his jaw and then nestles into his chest. Their minds and hearts have cleared; they have never been so sure about themselves in their lives. Striker Eureka was now invincible.


	10. Throne

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Celia and Chuck feel invincible.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: NSFW Chapter.

              As always, it was a silent understanding of a change in relationship, which was fine; they need only to have felt it. If they were close before, they were magnetically attracted now. They were a force to be reckoned with, like two Jaeger pilots constantly in the drift. As Team Striker, Celia was the omnipotent shield, protection against the harsh seas with her armor and eyes, and Chuck the sword, driving death sentences into Kaiju flesh.

              They were not publicly affectionate, but the dome would never see them apart, as if they were of one form, fused together. No one dared say anything, or even think about their relationship for too long; they were far too intimidated of the two stars on Earth, blinding, burning the ground in their footsteps.

              In the privacy of their rooms, Chuck and Celia made up for lost time, and for any potentially short time they had in their apocalyptic world. Here, they were affectionate, a lion with his lioness. Celia often sat on Chuck’s lap, Chuck with a hand in her hair and an arm around her waist. Celia could be talking and Chuck would bury his face in the crook of her neck, pressing several light kisses and causing her to giggle. He could almost forget the thrill of piloting a Jaeger with simply this; he felt as if he were soaring, like 10 victories won. _Try and knock us from our throne_ , he would think to himself when they were out in the dome. Nothing could stop him with her by his side.

              There came an evening not long after where they were in their usual lair of Chuck’s room. Celia laying on her side and her head on his lap, looked up at Chuck. There was something different in her eyes, he saw. Like she was targeting her prey, violent and determined, mimicking how she looked commanding the Loccent. She drew a hand to slide on his abdomen, feeling his distinct abs, making her way up his chest, then back down, down to his pelvis beside her face. Not much to feel, as his pants were of a thick military fabric, but enough to let her intentions known. Chuck instinctively holds back a growing feeling as he usually does when he sneaks his gaze over her body; his eyes would trail her waist and the slant of her neck, outlining her figure, the strength in her arms, wrangling wrenches as tall as she, her hair pulled back in her work, revealing the sharp angles of her face. But he lets go of his control and turns himself loose; it would be okay now.

              He tugs on the back of his shirt collar and pulls it over his head, dog tags still dangling, revealing his stiffly muscled chest that she had been teasing. She lifts herself up to face him, and pulls his hand to her shirt, instructing him to unbutton it. He obeys, hesitant to feel too much of her just yet. He slides it off her shoulders, revealing a simple black bra and the skin of the curves he had longed for. He can hardly breathe when she pushes him gently back against the wall, repositions herself with her knees on either side of him and burns a series of kisses down his cheek, his jaw, his neck, his chest. His hands outline her waist and hips, begging to feel more. He can no longer bear it and twists himself up, laying her down on the bed instead. He snaps her bra clasp off from behind her and she tears it off, dropping it on the side. Pressing the skin of his chest to hers, he kisses her, sucking on her lips, hungry for her. He sits up to undo his pants, Celia following suit. He kisses her chest, reaching a hand down to her opening. He moans quietly to himself, feeling her wetness, his own member driving him crazy. His dog tags are obstructing the way; he yanks them straight off his neck and kisses hers harshly, sure to leave marks like the Kaiju kills on his suit. Her soft moans in his ears are too much for him. With a final kiss on her stomach, he pulls her hips down to his, and positions himself. He looks back at her briefly, taking in the blushing of her face and her longing eyes, and gradually slips himself in.

              A burst of pain causes Celia to wince despite his care. Chuck sees this and pauses for a bit before moving again. Celia’s face eventually relaxes as she acclimates to the change in flesh, and a different burst of feelings takes over. She lets him know it was alright with a kiss and Chuck starts up an even pace. The warmth and wetness squeezing on him is almost agonizing and he groans with every few thrusts, hunching over with tense shoulders but moving with fluid hips. He wraps an arm around her waist and pulls her up on her lap, still connected. Celia’s hair draping around their faces like a curtain, she grabs his face and pulls him to her lips, as Chuck helps her hips move on him. He hits inside her somewhere and she gasps sharply each time. She looks down at the face of the man she once despised, the face that would wear a smirk no one could wipe off. She sees now only vulnerability and gentle love, lightly framed by a messy crop of hair. Chuck breathes her in, a smell of honey steadying him. She whispers his name in his ear in between moans and Chuck grunts, throwing her back down on the bed and quickening his pace. Her moans grow louder as Chuck slams into her; the pleasure is so much, he can hardly take it. Finally with one last thrust, he releases and she gasps. For a moment, they forget how to breathe. The tension gradually dissipates between their legs, and Chuck pulls out.

              Celia can barely move, the only thing working is her diaphragm heaving for breath. Chuck, equally breathless, huffs above her. Eventually they both widen a smile at each other, and Chuck plops himself down beside her. They laugh, and catch their breath together.


	11. Inevitable

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Herc has a bad time.

              Chuck and his father are anchored in Striker’s Conn-Pod, another Kaiju alerting them into battle. Up in the Loccent, the neural handshake is initiated and they are sucked into each others’ minds. They jolt back, fully connected, though Chuck thinks to himself that he’d rather be drifting with Celia, and shame she isn’t a pilot. Herc, who was just speaking through the comms to the Loccent, stops abruptly, and cringes sharply.

              “Oh, Jesus fuckin’ Christ”, he groans.

              “What’s the matter, Striker?” the Marshal calls into the mic.

              Chuck rolls his eyes. Celia, back in the Loccent, looks warily side to side, embarrassed. “Sorry Herc!” she calls into the mic. The Marshal gives her a look, asking what that was all about. She smiles sheepishly and says nothing, Herc’s grumbling playing in the background.


	12. Relic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chuck and Celia meet the world's remaining Jaeger teams.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Film events begin here.

              Things are going poorly for the Jaeger program. Jaegers and pilots are dropping faster than they can replace them; and the world is turning towards the walls for hope. Time and again Chuck and Celia express their frustration, and are furious when they hear their Shatterdome is closing down. Chuck gets to release his frustration with one last ironic battle defending Sydney, the Kaiju Mutavore having easily stomped through the wall and Australia begging for them to step in.

              Celia sees him on the news, looking sharp and smug. “That’s Striker Eureka’s tenth kill to date. It’s a new record,” he says. She smiles to herself: _That’s right, Chuck. Shove it in the morons that rather run and hide._

              The Australian team is inevitably shipped off to the Hong Kong Shatterdome, where the last remaining Jaeger teams of the world have gathered. She is appalled to see how few of them are left, Cherno Alpha, the crazy old Mark I, Crimson Typhoon, and a clunky Mark III? She clenches her teeth and cracks all her knuckles. Chuck wears a tense, exasperated face beside her, all too common as of late.

              They meet with Marshal Pentecost who introduces them to the others. Herc, having met most of them before, converses easily. Chuck gives minimal respect, a skeptical nod, to Cherno Alpha’s pilots Sasha and Aleksis; it’s hard to deny their impressive defense of their sector with remarkably outdated tech. It is the Mark III team that Celia and Chuck really raise their eyebrows at. No pilots, only its crew of mechanics and a woman who oversaw its reconstruction.

              “Mako Mori,” Pentecost introduces. She bows to them.

              “It is an honor to meet you. I am a great admirer of your Mark V, Miss Shaw,” she says in her perfect Japanese manners and thick accent.

              “Thank you,” Celia twists a smile up at the rightful praise, but she notices her eyeing Chuck with curiosity, and feels challenged. “This is Herc and Chuck Hansen, Striker’s formidable pilots. And yours are?” she asks condescendingly; she already knows there aren’t any.

              “We are in the process,” Pentecost says, “Bringing in a veteran. The remaining Becket, you remember him, Herc.”

              “I do,” he says, “We rode together in Manila.”

              “Jaegers don’t have veterans,” Chuck cuts in. “You’re either fighting or you’re dead. Where’s this guy been while the rest of us have been saving the world?”

              “Shut it,” Herc tells him harshly. The Marshal glares and keeps talking. Mako purses her lips in discomfort, her curiosity of him shutting down from his arrogance. Celia laughs in her head: _Giving up so soon? I listened to worse shit than that for years._ But she is content that she can put her guard back down, Chuck’s own mouth is enough to deter her away.

              Celia and Chuck head to the dorm hall, Chuck chooses a large, already inhabited room and drops their stuff down, kicking out its residents to relocate. Celia shoves two single beds together against the wall and smiles at her work. As much as she already misses Australia, Celia is glad that they finally get a room together and says nothing about the unceremonious take-over. She tries to tidy up but Chuck has other ideas.

              Back out in the dome, the new pilot has arrived, escorted by the Marshal and Mako. Herc steps up to pay his respects to him, leaving Chuck and Celia smartly behind. Chuck and Celia, taking turns tossing a slimy ball for Max, look over with concern, judging the old relic that walked in. Though Celia had once admired the Mark III’s, it was all their shortcomings that fueled her to create the Mark V. Her mild distaste fortified by the arrogant man by her side, she firmly decides that she doesn’t like him or Mako.

              In the mess hall later, Herc calls the veteran over to join him for dinner, to Chuck and Celia’s displeasure.

              “Raleigh, this is my son, Chuck. He’s my copilot now.”

              “He’s more my copilot, right Dad?” Chuck scoffs, putting on his cocky routine to put Raleigh in his place. Herc twists his face in displeasure and ignores the comment.

              “So when was the last time you jockeyed, Ray?”

              “About five years ago.”

              “What have you been doin’ for five years? Somethin’ pretty important, I reckon.”

              “I was in construction.”

              “Oh wow, that’s great. We get into a fight, you can build our way out of it, eh, Ray?”

              The glares of the men try to ignite each other.

              "It's Raleigh."

              Celia takes bites of her potatoes and looks on with a grin, like eating popcorn at the movies.

              “Look, you’re Pentecost’s bright idea. And my old man, he seems to like you. But it’s guys like you who brought down the Jaeger program. To me, yer dead weight,” Chuck delivers his scalding verdict and gets up. Celia shoves a last bite of food in her mouth and follows suit, along with the happy-go-lucky Max beside them.

              “You slow me down, I’m gonna drop you like a sack of Kaiju shit. I’ll see you around, Raaaaleigh. C’mon,” he motions to Celia and Max, who happily trail behind him. Celia makes a quick turn and waves bye to Raleigh with a big patronizing smile before returning to lock an arm with Chuck.

              “You can blame me for that one… He’s a smart kid, but I never knew whether to give him a hug or a kick in the ass,” Herc apologizes to Raleigh.

              “With respect sir, I’m pretty sure which one he needs.” Herc nods.

              “Don’t be too bitter about her though,” Herc continues, referring to Celia. “She gets sucked up in his shtick sometimes. But she’s an absolutely brilliant woman, tough and honest, devoted to her team.”

              “Is she the one who built your Mark V? She’s young.”

              “Yeah,” Herc confirms, “Well she’s spent half her life behind these walls. I’ve watched her grow up devourin’ all the Jaeger tech research she could grab her hands on. Striker’s her brainchild.”

              “Jeez,” Raleigh says, “what’s a woman like that doing with your son?”

              “Oh, she hated him immensely at first. But they stuck to each other anyway and now they’re inseparable. She levels him down, I’m honestly grateful for her.” Raleigh nods and takes a bite of his food, reflecting on all his new but familiar surroundings. He’s here to run support for the asshole, but he takes solace in his own seasoned track records and suppresses his anger for the time being.


	13. Brawl

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Raleigh and Chuck have their scuffle.

              The has-been and the rookie, Mori hopping into the other seat, proved to be useless after all, Chuck had said to Celia. A basic connection test failed, Striker having to jump in and wrestle the out-of-control Jaeger back into submission. Celia would’ve let Chuck re-watch the ass-beating through recordings, but budget cuts eliminated unnecessary filming in the dome. After a heated analysis meeting of the event; mainly Chuck yelling about the pathetic team, Chuck and Celia are released from the room to face Raleigh and Mako, who are waiting to hear their judgment. Chuck fires his attacks at their lesser counter-parts.

              “You two are a goddamn disgrace! Yer genna get us all killed and here’s the thing, Raaaaleigh… I wanna come back from this mission… because I quite like my life. So why don’t you just do us all a favor,” he flicks his fingers at his chest, “and disappear?”

              It was no longer simple taunts at the veteran; Chuck is livid thinking of these miserablely useless teammates as his support. No way in hell will they compromise his victory path, or god forbid his return to his girl. If they couldn’t shape up, they needed to go home, while the big boys took care of it.

              “Stop! Now!” Mako tries to end Chuck’s verbal assaults; even she’s had enough. But Raleigh holds her back firmly, _It’s not worth it._ Chuck smirks, he always loved when he got his prey backing off.

              “Yeah, that’s right,” he says menacingly. “You just hold back your little girlfriend. One of you _bitches_ needs a leash.” Celia cringes behind him, _Yikes._ Raleigh doesn’t need any more prompt, he throws a fist at Chuck, knocking his head backwards. Chuck, surprised that his prey was actually fighting back, is unprepared to knock back subsequent sprays of punches. Celia simply slips herself to the side, looks down at the scuffle and shrugs to herself, _Eh. Had it coming. For years actually._ She glances over at Mako and gives her a contrite look: _Soooooorry._

              “Apologize to her.”

              “Screw you!” They jump back in the brawl; Chuck pins Raleigh hard against the wall but Raleigh is quick and fluid, Chuck ends up slamming against a pipe. He roars, frustrated, throwing back calculated heavy fists. In the end Raleigh finishes by grappling him into submission and knocking him to the ground, pulling dangerously on his arm; Herc and the Marshal exit the room and order them on their feet before Chuck can find a way out.

              Raleigh coolly lets go and gets up. But Chuck is unsatisfied and remains incredibly heated. His pride was beaten down and he wasn’t about to leave it there, especially not in front of the woman he respects above all else, though Celia wasn’t thinking anything negative that he imagined she was. She was simply considering her methods of pacifying the undoubtedly still enraged Chuck later.

              “No! We aren’t finished!”, he tries to lunge back at Raleigh.

              “Ey this is OVER!”, Herc instinctively intercepts him. “Yer a Ranger for Christ’s sake, why don’tcha start actin’ like one?”

              Chuck’s had enough beating to his ego for a year in just about 5 minutes; he is seething. He shoves his dad off, burning holes in his face with his glare. Celia decides to record all the welts Raleigh did receive from Chuck into her head to back up a defense case of “you got him back plenty” and firmly avoid the words win and lose. Chuck glances at her briefly to signal his leave; he stomps out of the scene and Celia jogs after him. As usual, she twists back for a moment, mouths _Sorry!_ to everyone behind her, and disappears after him. Herc sighs, wondering when his son will clean up his own messes, or god willing stop causing them all together.


	14. EMP

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Celia struggles to back Striker up against two Category IVs.

              Chuck and Herc are shipped out along with Cherno and Crimson; two Kaiju signatures have emerged and heading right for their doorstep. Chuck sneers at Gipsy Danger’s team before leaving; they are grounded, rightfully.

              The Kaiju, both Category IV, prove to be difficult to handle. Striker was instructed not to engage; she was too valuable to lose, but her teammates were evidently going to be lost without them.

              “Jesus, we can’t just sit here and watch them die. Come on!” The Hansens’ frustration wins over. Celia, who was helping monitor the Kaiju, shifts immediately into Striker mode. She moves as if she herself were part of the system.

              Their sentiments wouldn’t reach far, Striker was too far to make it, even with her speed. Crimson is shredded and gone. Cherno is being double-teamed by the two Kaiju and is failing fast.

               “JUST HOLD ON CHERNO WE’RE ON OUR WAY!” Striker grabs Leatherback’s attention away from them, but Otachi finishes the job anyway. Celia screeches in her head, two Category IV’s now on Striker’s shoulders, the situation is incredibly bad. She hears Chuck and Herc roar, firing up their missiles, but Leatherback behind them emits an EMP. The two of them scream in agony; the pulse causes Striker to shock the two in their suits and shut the entire Jaeger down. They are stuck, and without comms no less. Otachi slinks away into the city, Leatherback lingering behind to admire its work.

              Back at the Loccent, Celia’s screens are equally dark. She hasn’t felt this much panic since Auckland; she can’t even communicate with Striker. She swings herself down to help her colleague, Choi, reroute the auxiliary, as fast as they can move. Two Kaiju versus a defenseless city; she cannot just let them sit there. She hears Gipsy’s team argue to get themselves out there; at this point, she doesn’t care. _Send them, send anyone, just go!_

              In Striker’s Conn-Pod, the Hansens are tapping worthlessly at all their controls, but they’re clearly dead. They quit the futile task.

              “There’s no emergency power. We gotta bail!”

              “I’m gonna try something else,” Herc replies, releasing himself from his anchor to Striker.

              “No! Don’t disengage!” Chuck yells, but already Herc is hurled against the wall by a punch from Leatherback outside.

              “My arm!” he groans. Chuck disengages himself and runs over to help him.

              “Ey! Come on, get on your feet, old man!”

              “Don’t! Call me that!” Herc growls at him. Chuck gets his dad back on his feet but Herc shoves him off, still irritated.

              “He’s right outside, we gotta get out of here, now!” Chuck shouts over the Kaiju’s wails outside. There’s nothing they can do. Striker’s disabled, and they can’t even call Celia who is miles away.

              “We’re not going anywhere!” Herc yells back. He activates a hatch to access a set of flare guns. “Now you and I are the only thing standing between that ugly bastard and a city of 10 million people. Now we have a choice here! We either sit and wait, or we take these flare guns and do something reeeally stupid.”

              Chuck stares back at him. “You know me, I’m always up for something stupid.” Of course he’ll do it, but he’s amused that it’s his dad with the terrible idea this time.

              They crawl out of their hatch, Chuck eyeing down Leatherback directly in front of him. He isn’t fazed in the slightest.

              “How’s your arm?”

              “Ah, just gimme the gun.” Chuck hands one over to Herc, who is equally unaffected by the giant monster in front of them.

              “Hey you!” Herc calls. The crazy Australians point their flare guns right at Leatherback with no real attempt to aim; he’s too big to miss. One of their shots bounces off his skin, the other makes it way into an eyeball and he screeches, thrashing from the pain.

              “I think we just pissed it off!”

              Leatherback shakes it off and raises its arms; nothing would stop it from crushing them now. If Celia were able to see the scene, she might have fainted. But they are saved; not by the Loccent, but by Gipsy being flown in, taking on Leatherback.

              “Come on, Gipsy! Kick his ass!” Chuck screams, cheering for their saviors, who began tossing Leatherback around with ease. Gipsy and Leatherback draw their fight into the harbor, letting Striker tap out of the fight. When they are too far out of view for the Hansens to watch, Chuck turns to his father.

              “Hey, don’t tell Celia.”

              “You don’t gotta tell me twice.”


	15. Chuck

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chuck says goodbye.

              Gipsy defeats Leatherback and Otachi. They are all flown back to base, exhilarated that they all survived the Category IV’s, but the joy doesn’t last long. They are down to two Jaegers, Gipsy running defense for any and all Kaiju that would emerge to threaten the payload. And they wouldn’t have to wait long; the signatures arrive on screen soon after their return.

              Herc cannot ride. Even as a man with his skill, he could not pilot Striker effectively with a broken arm. Chuck is ordered to get ready without him. The Marshal would be replacing him.

              Chuck suits up, quickly and efficiently, as he’s done a dozen times before. He emerges to see the Marshal waiting outside for him and they walk down the hall to deployment. He glances at the towering man marching beside him, who reassures him of the plan.

              “I carry nothing into the drift. No memories, no fear, no rank. And as for you, well you’re easy. You’re an egotistical jerk with daddy issues. A simple puzzle I solved on day one. But you are your father’s son, so we’ll drift just fine.”

              “Works for me,” Chuck nods and shakes his hand, ever confident in his work. But the moment he sees his father, Max, and Celia outside waiting for him, he is shaken. It is the final mission, there remains only two Jaegers. Just him and Gipsy holding the door against the Breach. They will win, they must. And they will almost certainly die trying.

              Herc and Celia are flushed red, eyes barely holding back tears. Herc steps forward and speaks quietly to his son.

              “Hey, now,” he begins. It’s his final chance, to break through their years of silence.

              “When you drift with someone… You feel like there’s nothing to talk about.” He chokes up. “I just don’t want to regret all the things that I never said out loud.”

              “Don’t,” Chuck says, shaking his head, almost losing it himself. “You don’t need to. I know them all. I always have.”

              Chuck turns to Celia and nearly lets out a sob. She smiles through her struggle. “I know,” she whispers. Her tears begin flowing but she keeps smiling. It is too much to bear, Chuck lets his eyes release his. He takes her hand, pressing something in it.

              “I love you,” he says to her. He knows that she knows, but for once, at the end of his life, he will say it out loud.  
              “I love you, too.” Through her glistening eyes, she exhibits fondness and pride for the man in front of her. She squeezes his hand, taking what felt like some metal scraps.

              Max is panting by his leg. He crouches down briefly and smiles, giving him a kiss on his forehead. “Take care of them for me, huh buddy?” he says to him. “Your old man and my girl.”

              He gets back up and wraps himself around Celia, clutching tight, breathing her scent in one last time.

              “Oof, not so tight Chuck. You’ll squish our baby.”

              He lets out a laugh, relieved for some release in tension. “What d’ya mean? Max is down there.”

              “No.” She pulls his hand to her abdomen. He is still smiling, confused. Hercules gasps behind him, and Chuck realizes.

              “Oh…!” Chuck’s mouth is agape. He bends over slightly and hovers his hands over her non-showing stomach like a precious treasure. Celia, through her crying laughter pulls him up.

              “Celia!” Chuck cries. He clasps a hand to his mouth in disbelief. He’s leaving more behind than he thought.

              “Don’t you worry, Chuck,” she whispers, still charming him after all this time. “I’ll tell ‘em all about how great their father was.”

              Everyone’s tears are flowing openly. Herc understands his new role well before Chuck turns to him in concern.

              “You, you take care of them,” he gets out, mostly at a loss for words, but his father who has drifted with him numerous times before, knows everything he wanted to say.

              “I know, son.”

              He returns to his lover, embracing her and kissing her. With one hand on her waist and another behind her head to support her, he presses his lips hard into hers, conveying his overwhelming firework of emotions. These are his last actions in the Shatterdome. There is nothing more to say, the Kaiju are waiting. With one last look, he sees his family standing tall and steady. Celia looks back at him, forcing her to generate a prideful face instead of the sorrow that she shoved down deep instead. She watches them enter Striker Eureka, placating her briefly. The best of her pride and joy will protect him until the job is done. She has never regretted not following the path of the Jaeger pilot. She looks up at her masterpiece, and knows she’s done all she could.


	16. Drift

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This and this and this.

              “Herc,” she says softly. Herc, on the armchair beside her, looks at her immediately, ready to tend to anything she needs.

              “What is it?”

              She looks at him wearily. She is 9 months along. Her combined grief over Chuck and her hormones had thrown her in an endless pit of depression, sorrow and tears. Striker, the work that once dictated her every action and thought, source of her pride and honor, had gone with him as well. Now, she feels like nothing. She’s been numb for months.

              “Will you tell me about being in the drift? With Chuck?”

              She hadn’t mentioned his name in a long time, and Herc tenses for a moment. He looks up, staring at some point in the air, a hand on Max's asleep head beside him.

              “It’s a mess in there,” he says, for lack of a better word. “Full of emotion… like a swarm of bees.”

              She says nothing. Herc hesitates; it’s difficult to put the drift into words. “It’s, burning. Unbearable, often. Anger and passion, all heart. Only thing getting me through was my guilt as a father.”

              It grows silent for a bit. He sees Celia tense up and so quits remembering.

              “What else?” Her eyes are still steady. She’s always punching through the hurt. She wants to get to where she’s headed.

              Herc exhales a puff of air. “He’s cocky, but… he makes us feel invincible. Fighting Kaiju before was like a dance. So easy.

              “We’d dart back to his childhood a lot, mostly right after the handshake. It’s bad. Makes me feel like shit.

              “I see glimpses of his time at the Academy. He pissed off a lot of people, professors. They couldn’t get rid of him fast enough. And he felt like it was a waste of his time… being around them.

              He turns to her, looking for reassurance to continue. Her face is trembling almost indiscernibly, and her cheeks are light pink. Her eyes are the same.

              “It’s a lot of bad feelings, but there’s… some good.”

              “Tell me,” she commands softly. “Tell me everything.”

              Herc looks down, a hand to his forehead like a headache.

              “One combining strength we shared was with Max. Seeing him wobbling along in the drift was always a breath of fresh air.

              “There’s one nice one I see a lot too. Well… actually it’s just darkness, but there’s a calmin’ smell of honey or somethin’.

              “There’s memories of you in the beginnin’. You always’re lookin’ at him with this sort of death glare, but still he feels humor, and fondness, and attraction. Admiration, as I’d told you once.

              “He saw you in my head, too. Mostly just you readin’, a lot. Tinkering with scraps, not talking to anyone. Hate to tell ya, but you were kinda like him. Marching down your path without stopping for anyone.

              “Oh, he really likes the one of you tripping over some equipment and me carting you to medical. I think you were about 14.

              Herc hears what he thought was a soft giggle but only sees a red face, streaming with tears. She is shaking, but he doesn’t let up.

              “When we’re in the thick of it, often we’d see only you. Laughin’ in his room. Memories of you workin’, hair pulled back, super focused. Yellin’ at someone. Holding his arm. Cringing at some bad joke. Asleep on the concrete. Asleep on a platform. Caressin’ his face. Kissin’ him.

              “I felt all of it,” he says unabashedly. There’s no room for embarrassment, nor did either of them care. “He loved you, Celia. So much. It burned magnificent, like the roar of an engine. Made me feel alive. Made me feel I could fix all the wrong I’d done.

              Celia’s head is hunched down, as far as her rotund belly would allow her. It catches drip after drip of tears. She clutches herself, sobbing sharply. Herc gets up and kneels in front of her, taking a clasped hand off around her. He feels the metal ring Chuck left her.

              “The drift is something special. Me, I got to live in it. I felt his anger, but also his understanding and forgiveness. I felt his love, and his life. As long as I live mine, I’ll do my best to help you relive his.”

              She misses him more than she can bear. She misses his stupid, smug face and his wide smile and his rambling about whatever. The boyish look in his eyes when he talked to Max. The fearsome one he put on when called to duty. His warm, comforting arms around her. His gentle lips on hers.

              She exhales her last deep breath and rests her gaze on her father-in-law. She will never forget him, nor let anyone else forget him, no matter how badly it destroyed her inside. She will tell her son everything his father was, bright and angry and loving.

              “Okay.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading. I hope I have done him justice.


End file.
